


Parts of a Whole

by DarkDragonne



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, daemon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:27:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDragonne/pseuds/DarkDragonne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(A daemon AU, daemon idea taken from his Dark Materials/the Golden Compass)</p>
<p>The panther was the first thing to materialize in the tesseract labs. Almost a year later, the second thing appears- an alien god bent on subjugating the planet. And strange as the panther daemon who has no human is, the Avengers and their daemons have more pressing matters to deal with, namely, preventing the war that humankind is simply not ready for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by some prompt or another I ran into at Avengerkink, but I can't remember what the prompt was or who prompted it. So yeah...
> 
> Anyway... the basis of this AU is pretty straightforward- like in His Dark Materials, people have daemons. It isn't necessary to read His Dark Materials to understand this, only to know what a daemon is. Basically- they represent the person's soul. Everyone has one, and through childhood they can shapeshift into whatever, but when the person hits maturity the daemon settles into a form that represents the human's character. If you don't know what a daemon is and want to read this anyway, and don't understand something, I'll be happy to explain.
> 
> Basically, this story starts out by following the basic plot of the movie, but splits in later chapters.

**Prologue**

“This is ridiculous. Panthers don’t just appear from out of nowhere.” Nick Fury stated flatly into the phone. Granted, he had come to accept the impossible in his years as director of SHEILD, but this…

“Begging your pardon, sir, but this one did.” Selvig insisted. “Right in the middle of the lab. Practically magic.” For what might have been the dozenth time, the director found himself wondering whether hiring the scientist had been a good idea. His brilliance and his friendship with Thor were both valuable assets, but he had proven prone to superstitions and belief in the supernatural. Add that to his annoying habit of referring to the tesseract, which he studied with diligence, as a “she”, and the result was a constant chafing on Fury’s nerves.

Fury was well practiced at hiding his annoyance, but at his side, Kenara gave a low growl. Raising a single eyebrow, he placed a warning hand on the flank of the grizzly bear. His daemon had all of his anger, but none of his patience.

“So what you’re saying, Selvig,” Fury attempted to organize his thoughts, “Is that a panther just materialized in the middle of your motherfucking lab.”

“Exactly, sir.”

He sighed. There were no peaceful days at SHEILD. Not that he would have it any other way, of course. “I’m on my way. Is Barton there?”

“He is.”

“Good. Tell him to contact agent Romanoff. And don’t let anyone touch that creature until I get there.”

***

Natasha was used to unusual calls in the middle of the night. It was part of her job, after all. These calls, however, usually didn’t involve panthers.

“This is stupid.” Raskanor muttered in Russian as the assassin blinked the sleep from her eyes. He hung from the ceiling by thin webbing, swinging back and forth mere inches from her face. Raskanor’s form matched her codename- a black spider with a red mark across his swollen stomach.

Anyone who observed her daemon could easily recognize he wasn’t a true spider- he was easily the size of a tarantula, and his hourglass mark was generally not found in males. But he was perfect for the type of jobs they were usually sent to perform- he could go most anywhere unnoticed, overhear bits of conversation… and his sting was just as lethal as that of any black widow. In the time she preferred to think of as _before_ , when she had still worked for the Russian government, Raskanor had been encouraged to break the taboo preventing a daemon and a human that was not theirs from touching. Nowadays, both of them preferred to avoid that particular skill of his.

It took Natasha less than ten minutes to wear her SHIELD uniform and make herself look presentable with slight touches of hair crème and makeup. It might have taken her even less if not for Rask’s endless commentary.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” he continued his train of thought, “magical panthers? They should put that Dr. Strange guy on it, not us. We don’t _do_ magic. We don’t do panthers either. Maybe they should call Central Park Zoo or something.”

Natasha sighed. Her daemon’s talkative nature clashed painfully with her own stoic behavior. “Director Fury said this was important. If he says it’s a job for us, then that’s what it is.”

“How about we sleep in? Take a day off? Not show up today? I don’t think we’ve ever done that. There’s always a first, right?”

“What’s your problem?”

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like dealing with teleporting cats at…” he swiveled towards the digital clock at her bedside, “3AM.”

“You can sleep on the way. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Rask grumbled softly, but swung onto her shoulder, taking care not to leave any webbing on her clothes (oh, she hated when he did), wrapped his legs around a strap on her collar, and went to sleep. Natasha knew he hadn’t slept all night- it had been man, many years since they had slept at the same time. Watching their backs had become second nature.

Natasha pulled on her black leather boots, grabbed her key, and locked the small apartment behind her. She had been living there for nearly a month. It would soon be time to move.

***

Deija saw Natasha enter the enormous lab before Clint did. For all his reputation as Hawkeye, his eyesight couldn’t compare to an actual hawk’s. The sight of his old friend and ally after weeks, if not months, without seeing her sent a wave of excitement through his chest, but none of it showed on his carefully clam face.

Deija fluttered from their perch over the door and hovered a few feet away, near the limit of the distance they could maintain between them. Raskanor scuttled across the wall (a slightly longer distance than Deija could manage- Natasha and her daemon were able to maintain a longer distance than Clint and his own) until the two daemons were eye-to-eye with each other.

“Hey,” Raskanor greeted.

“ ‘Sup?” Deija replied, and Clint could hear every word of the conversation as though here were standing right next to them, despite the fact he was 80% deaf.

“Oh, the usual- waking up at ungodly hours for the director’s latest whim. So, do you mind explaining what’s going on here exactly?”

As they talked, Clint cast his gaze around the lab. It was packed with computers, machines, and technology he couldn’t even pretend to understand, as well as scientists, and lots of them. For once, though, their attention wasn’t focused on the tesseract, which was placed in a machine in the center of the room. Instead, they were all crowded around a dark shape on the floor.

“We’re not sure, really.” Deija admitted. “She just appeared in the middle of the room, right under the tesseract. Hasn’t moved since.”

“She?” The spider inquired.

“We think she’s a daemon.”

***

Deija’s words made Natasha shudder involuntarily. If the alleged panther was a daemon…

“Where is her human?” Rask voiced her thoughts.

“We don’t know. It’s impossible. But there she is, and she hasn’t talked to anyone yet.”

“Then how do you—“ Her daemon was interrupted by director Fury, who stepped away from the crowd of agents and scientists and turned towards her. Rask dropped back to her shoulder, and Deija swooped over to Clint’s.

“Agent Romanoff.” He acknowledged her presence, and Kenara grunted in Rask’s direction. “Has agent Barton briefed you yet?”

“Roughly, sir.”

“Right… to sum this up, a panther daemon materialized here roughly an hour ago. She’s barely conscious, and there’s no human in sight. I want you to get anything you can out of her. Who is she? Why is she here? _Where the hell is her human?_ Am I clear, agent?”

“Very clear, sir.” Natasha made her way towards the gathering, and the employees let her pass. She wasn’t a common sight around this particular base, but among the agents of SHEILD, her reputation preceded her (most of that reputations was _“classified”_ , which earned her some respect in itself). A clear path opened before her, and she finally caught sight of the strange daemon.

Lean and muscular, she was slightly smaller than an average panther, with sleek black fur that looked as if it had been regularly taken care of, but suddenly abandoned and allowed to grow disheveled. As Natasha approached the seemingly unconscious creature, a pair of yellow, feline eyes opened to slits, and a soft warning growl escaped the panther’s lips.

Using the same approach she would use for a wounded animal or frightened child, Natasha crouched to appear less intimidating, and advanced no further. Instead, Rask scuttled down from her shoulder and onto the cold floor, coming to a stop by the other daemon’s head.

“Hey,” he said in a soothing voice that was so soft Natasha doubted anyone but she and the panther could hear. “Don’t be scared. We’re here to help you.”

A single word escaped from the panther’s lips, barely more than a whisper. “Why?”

“Because you look like you could use our help.” She didn’t respond to that statement, and Rask decided to use a different approach. “Where is your human?”

“My…” A hint of confusion. “I have no human.” A chill ran down Natasha’s spine, worse than how she felt when she realized there was no human in sight. There was no such thing as a daemon with no human.

“Of course you do.” Rask insisted. “Try to remember. That woman over there, with the red hair,” he waved one of his legs at Natasha, “she’s my human. We’re bonded. We’re two parts of the same person. So where is yours?”

“Mine… he… he left…” the creature’s voice broke. “He left me… tore me away… he’s gone!”

***

“It’s no use, sir.” Natasha told Fury quietly, fifteen minutes after the conversation had started. “She won’t say anything else. Only that her human left her, and that she’s alone. She doesn’t know her name, or at least she won’t tell us. I don’t think she’s sane, sir.”

“I don’t understand.” Selvig interjected, overhearing their conversation. His daemon, some golden-brown furred rodent that Natasha could not identify, curled around his neck, exuding more anxiety than Natasha had known a daemon was capable of showing. “How can a human separate themselves from their daemon?”

“I’d be damned if I knew, Selvig. What _I_ want to know is why did she materialize in _our_ lab, of all places?” Fury inquired.

“I have a theory.” The scientist mused, “The Tesseract is an energy source, right, and a portal. A doorway in space. So, hypothetically, if she was to materialize anywhere, why not here? She could have been drawn to the energy, and passed through the door.”

“But what why did she materialize at all?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

In a corner of her mind, Natasha could still hear the conversation going one between Rask and the unnamed daemon, and the panther’s nonsensical response- a plea muttered over and over again. “Come back… come back…”


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It had been over a year since anything interesting happened in the Tesseract lab. The panther, who was responsible for the excitement, had been taken away on Fury’s orders, and Clint hadn’t seen her since. Natasha too had gone off the grid, probably on some undercover mission. And Clint remained sentry in this lab, watching for disturbances that didn’t come.

And he was bored. Deija was always focused, her golden eyes watching the glowing blue cube intently for movement while he leaned on the rail of his balcony, absent-mindedly stroking his bow.

“Clint. Clint!” Deija said. “Something’s happening.” A shout from one of the scientists down in the lab indicated that they’d noticed it too. Clint didn’t need their fancy tech to see the cube flare brightly once every few seconds, in seemingly irregular intervals.

The two watched as the scientists scurried below, attempting to cut the power off from the Tesseract, with evident failure. The cube produced its own energy, and it was doing so with enthusiasm.

“Is it just me,” Deija muttered after what might have been ten minutes, or perhaps only five, “Or are they coming faster?” She was right. When Clint focused, he noticed that the intervals between the flares were becoming shorter. He didn’t need to say what was on his mind- they both knew it. If the Tesseract was a door, then it had been opened. Something was coming.

A single figure entered the lab, followed by a massive bear. Clint took in the eyepatch and signature coat. Fury. He leaned forwards, trying and failing to overhear the conversation between his boss and Selvig.

Selvig abruptly jabbed a thumb in Clint’s direction, and Fury’s voice sounded in his earpiece, “Agent Barton, report.” He didn’t even bother to reply. Instead, he slid down the cable that stretched from his balcony (which the scientists jokingly referred to as his “nest”) to the floor, and landed near Fury, who continued to talk.

“I gave you this detail so you could keep a close eye on things.”

“So I see better from a distance,” Clint argued, and Deija chirped in agreement.

“Have you seen anything that might have set this thing off?” Before Clint could answer, one of the scientists- a blonde woman with a butterfly daemon, said, “Doctor, it’s spiking again.” Near her, a monitor flashed in purple and blue, beeping incessantly. The director walked over to the pedestal on which the Tesseract was set, and Clint followed.

“No one’s come or gone.” Clint answered Fury’s previous question. “Selvig’s clean. No contacts, no IMs…” He hesitated for a split-second, glancing at Deija who gave a slight nod. “If there was any tampering, it wasn’t on this end.”

“On this end?” Fury asked flatly.

“Yeah, the cube, it’s a doorway to the other end of space, right?” He turned towards Fury, and shared the thought that had been on his and Deija’s minds since the disturbance had started. “Doors open from both sides.”

A mechanical whir came from one of the computers, followed by a burst of sound and light from the cube. The light was different from before- visible bursts of energy, crackling like electricity along the frame that held it. “Not yet… Selvig muttered frantically, his daemon scurrying across a control panel, pressing buttons with its small feet. “Not yet…”

The fluctuations increased, and Clint could feel the floor under him shaking. Something was happening- a vortex of swirling blow forming around the Tesseract, bathing it in a blinding light… and a single bolt of energy shot out- a blue beam that hit another raised pedestal near the end of the room. And the doorway opened.

For the briefest moment, Clint caught a glimpse of space- distant stars and nebulas, and that unearthly blue light. Deija squawked in excitement, and she wasn’t alone- a growl from Fury’s Kenara, and various chirps and whines from the other daemons in the room.

And then the portal exploded, sending a surge of blue through the room, knocking Selvig, as well as half of the other scientists and agents to the ground, shaken but unharmed.

Where the opening had been was now the figure of a man, still glowing. He was kneeling, with a spear in his hand that looked like nothing Clint had seen before. As the light faded, Clint observed black hair, dark clothing, and a pale face shrouded in shadow. A number of agents slowly walked towards him, guns in their hands.

The man looked up with a predatory smile, and Clint shuddered in unease. There was something wrong about the man, but he didn’t know _what_.

Still breathing heavily, the stranger got to his feet and surveyed the room.

“Sir, please put down the spear!” Fury commanded with remarkable calm. The man glanced at the weapon in his hand, a vicious, silver-gold thing with jagged edges and a glowing orb that looked a lot like the tesseract set in it, as if he had just noticed it was there. His eyebrows drew slightly closer to each other, and then he jabbed the spear forward, sending a bolt of blue energy crashing into the approaching agents.

A computer exploded, a muffled shout sounded, and the man leaped from the pedestal and drove the weapon into the chest of the nearest agent. From there, it was a slaughter. Even Clint found it difficult to follow his swift movements. Al he knew was that when it was over, two agents were dead with daggers in their throats, three killed by the spear itself, and even more sported injuries from its blasts of energy. The scientist with the butterfly daemon was thrown aside, and another man lay crumpled next to the wall which he had been flung against. The lab was destroyed- the computers and tech were all damaged and emitting sparks.

 _How can he DO all that?_ Clint thought silently, and Deija dug her talons into his shoulder. He got shakily to his feet, and not a moment too soon, as the man was suddenly in front of him. Clint’s arm was grabbed so roughly he could feel the bones grind against each other, and he grunted as he attempted to struggle against an inhumanly strong grip.

“You have heart.” The intruder said softly, the first words since he had arrived, and pressed the point of his spear against Clint’s chest.

Deija cried out with alarm and flapped frantically around the man’s face, coming close but never touching. The dark-haired man ignored her, and Clint _knew_ he was going to die. But the tip never pierced his skin.

The orb in the spear glowed blue, and Clint felt something rush into his chest and fill his body. The world swam in front of his eyes, and the last fully conscious thought that passed through his mind was that he had finally realized what was wrong with this man.

He had no daemon.

*a*a*a*

Natasha waited in the shadows of the small cottage, struggling to maintain her calm exterior. There weren’t many things that ruffled her, but the man she had been sent to see… There was good reason to be tense. Raskanor hung on a thread from the ceiling, watching the door burst open.

The little girl ran in first, as she had been instructed, her daemon, now in the form of a wildcat, running at her side. Without a word she leaped out of the window, leaving the man who had followed her behind. He was of average height, with short brown curls and thick glasses. Seeing her leave, he scoffed, and muttered to the lizard daemon on his shoulder, “Should have got paid out front, Jin.”

“You know,” Natasha said, stepping out of the shadows. “For a man supposed to be avoiding stress you picked a… hell of a place to settle.”

“Avoiding stress isn’t the secret,” he said.

“Then what is it? Yoga?” She challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“You brought me to the edge of the city, smart.” He observed, rubbing his hands together and pacing the room in a way that reminded Natasha of nothing more than a caged beast. “I, uh, assume the whole place is surrounded?” He peered out of the window, as if to search for the SHIELD agents who were waiting for him.

“Just you and me,” she lied, and his daemon’s tongue flicked out, tasting the air.

“And you actress buddy? She a spy too? They start that young?”

“I did,” Natasha said, her face devoid of emotion, hiding the memories that flooded. _Running. Pain. Smoke. The burning hospital. Dreykov’s words… “You’ve done well…”_

No. She pulled herself back to the present, focusing on the job at hand.

“Who’re you?” The man, Banner, inquired, looking down at his hands.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

“Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff?” He raised his head and met her gaze squarely. “Because that’s not gonna work out. For everyone.”

“No, no, of course not.” She assured. She knew that even she couldn’t kill him, not matter how hard she tried. “I’m here on behalf of SHIELD.”

“SHEILD.” His daemon, Jin, whispered something in his ear, and he gave a slight nod. “How’d they find me?”

“We never lost you, doctor. We’ve kept our distance. We’ve even kept some interested parties off your scent.”

“Why?” Banner asked, and that single word, the way he said it, reminded her of someone else who had asked the same thing. Over a year ago. She hadn’t seen the panther daemon ever since, but the memory weighed on her mind. For a moment, Banner reminded her of that creature- abandoned, alone. But he was infinitely more dangerous. She couldn’t allow herself to forget.

“Fury seems to trust you,” she replied, “but now we need you to come in.”

“What if I say no?”

“I’ll persuade you.” She said, and Rask lowered himself from the ceiling to hang between them. Jin hissed at him.

“And… what if the…” he licked his lips, “Other Guy says no?”

“You’ve been more than a year without an incident, I don’t think you want to break that streak.” She wasn’t afraid. Not now.

“I don’t every time get what I want,” he absent-mindedly nudged a rocking cradle that lay in the center of the room, and his daemon scurried from his hand onto it, curling her tail around the rail.

“Doctor, we’re facing a potential global catastrophe.”

“Those I actively try to avoid.” He chuckled.

Ignoring him, she pulled out her phone and showed him a picture of the tesseract. And then she explained.

“So Fury isn’t after the monster?” He said skeptically when she was finished, and the lizard on the cradle raised her head and glared, unblinking.

“Not that he’s told me.” She sat down by a rickety table.

“And he tells you everything.”

“Talk to Fury, he needs you on this.”

“He needs me in a cage?”

“No one’s going to put you in a cage—“ She reached a hand out, but his face contorted in sudden rage.

“STOP LYING TO ME!” He roared, slamming a fist onto the table. His daemon leaped from the cradle and landed on a shelf in front of Raskanor, and the spiked frill around her head rose threateningly as she hissed dangerously.

Instinctively, Natasha drew her gun and pointed it straight at Banner’s forehead, knowing that it would do her no good. Blood pounded in her ears, and for the first time in many years, she knew true fear.

But then Banner straightened and smiled sheepishly, and Jin relaxed and jumped back to his shoulder. "I'm sorry,” he said, “that was mean. I just wanted to see what you’d do.” Through the dissipating fear, Natasha felt a flash of sympathy. She knew what it was like, to be feared. _“Don’t kill me…” the little girl pleaded, “please let me go…”_ Once more, Natasha tore herself from her memories and back to the present. She was going to bring Banner in, one way or another. She preferred him to come quietly, but if not… she would deal with it.

In the end, he came quietly. The SHIELD agents waiting outside were completely unnecessary.

*a*a*a*

The gym was empty when Steve came in. It was a large room, complete with weights, a boxing rink, treadmills, and monkey bars. What caught his eye, though, was a pile of heavy punching bags next to a hook to hang them from.

His daemon, Taron, a yellow-white Labrador, trotted over to the pile and nudged one of the bags with her muzzle.

“I don’t think so, Taron.” He said softly. “It won’t help.”

“Steve,” she said, her warm brown eyes meeting his. “You need to relieve some stress.”

“I don’t think punching inanimate objects will do the trick.” He sighed, sitting down on one of the bags.

“It’s better than nothing,” she insisted.

“The only things I feel like punching right now are people. And even they aren’t alive anymore…” He pressed a hand to his temples. “We don’t belong here, Taron. Let’s go home.”

“Don’t you just give up.” She snapped, frustrated. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. Steve hadn’t been the same since they had been thawed, always dwelling on what he had lost. Taron kept trying to keep his spirits up, if only by the tiniest bit, trying to get him back in the world. Yes, it had changed, but not necessarily for the worse. “I’m going to get you to do _something_ with yourself.” She continued.

“Why? The war is over. We’re not important anymore.” He could feel her fury spark in her, and her next words were relentless blows.

“We survived, Steve. That means we still have a purpose. So go and _find_ it! Do you think Bucky would have wanted you to just give up? Do you think _Peggy_ would have wanted that?” He winced, and his own anger ignited. With a grunt, Steve rose to his feet and grabbed the bag he’d sat on and hung it on the hook.

Jab. Cross. Jab. Jab. Cross. Right hook. Cross. Jab. Left hook. Jab. Jab. Jab. Cross.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a slight grin twist Taron’s lip. With each punch, he felt his mind settle into the familiar motions. He didn’t say so, but there was something satisfying about the action. He let his body move in the routine it knew so well, and allowed his mind to wander.

Jab. Cross. Right hook. Jab. Jab. Cross.

The final cross was slightly more forceful tan he’s intended, and the bag tore from the hook and fell to the floor a few feet away. Steve looked down at his fist, confused for a moment.

“Better?” Taron asked sardonically.

“Slightly.” He replied, and hung another bag.

Jab. Cross. Left hook. Jab.

The bang each time his fist hit the bag reminded him of a different bang, and the memories resurfaced in his mind. _The guns shooting. The Howling Commandos charging. Deflecting a HYDRA blast with his shield. His own voice, saying, “there’s not enough time.” The plane approaching the sea. “We’ve got to put her in the water!”_

Jab. Cross. Jab. Jab.

_The approaching water. A glowing blue cube. Peggy’s picture. “You won’t be alone.” The cold washing over him. Blackness._

The bag flew from the hook and slammed into the floor, leaving Steve still posed for a punch, panting heavily. Taron whimpered softly, her memories just as keen as his.

“I can’t do this.” He told her.

“I know, Steve,” she trotted over to him and nudged his hand with her head. He felt her warmth on his skin, and the soft rasp of her tongue.

Steve was a soldier. Now, with no battles to fight, he was lost. He was out of his home, out of his time, worse than useless. He needed something. A purpose. A role to play. So when Fury approached him with his request, Steve barely hesitated.

*a*a*a*

Tony carefully directed a controlled beam of energy to weld the metal together, careful to let none of the system’s wiring touch the water that surrounded him. He was wearing his suit, of course, that red and gold armor he had created quite by accident and somehow kept improving.

With the last piece in place, he turned the power source on, and watched with satisfaction as the green glow emanated from his device. “We’re done.” He said smugly.

“Shall we see the show?” Brakia said, and Tony knew she was grinning behind her mask. When Tony’d first decided to make the iron suit a thing and fly around in it regularly, the question that had arisen was how he was going to stay close to his daemon. If she was a bird or a bat or something, then it would have been easy. But Brakia had chosen to settle in the form of a small, red monkey, which had, admittedly, been embarrassing at first, but later proven very useful when he discovered she could type and handle delicate equipment nearly as good as he could.

When Tony built the Mark I to escape his captors, the problem of Brakia hadn’t even occurred to him until it was actually time to wear the suit, and at that point there was no option but stuff her into the shoulder area, which he had thankfully built slightly too wide. Nonetheless, it wasn’t a comfortable fit, and when Tony set to work on the Mark II he knew he needed to find something better.

It was only two prototypes and a battle with Obe later that Tony realized what the solution was. It was so laughably simple he was surprised his genius mind hadn’t come up with it earlier.

Build Brakia a suit.

Both Pepper and Rhodey had initially tried to discourage him. He remembered Pep’s words- “building an iron suit for yourself is one thing, but you can’t build a suit of armor for a monkey!” To which he had replied with his customary- “Why the hell not?” And then, just to spite them, he did.

And he’d succeeded, hadn’t he? He was Tony Stark, after all. And after his battle with the Crimson Dynamo, Brakia had won the nickname “Iron Monkey”, and spiked a new level of creativity in the human race that showed itself through T-shirt logos showing the “evolution of Iron Man”, from monkey to human. Needless to say, Tony owned at least three.

With a blast of energy from his heels, Tony shot to the surface of the water, breaking through near a cruise ship. A small child that had been leaning of the railing cried out and stared at him wide-eyed.

As he flew in the direction of Stark Tower, he instructed JARVIS to call Pepper, waiting to enthuse on the success of his latest project. In front of him, the tower lit up floor by floor, and Tony felt childish glee rise in him as the word “Stark” sprang to light at the top.

“Just like Christmas,” Brakia said, sounding every bit as pleased as he was.

“Yep, except better. More me.” He was going to tell that to Pepper, he decided. And then they were going to have dinner. A glass of champagne. Possibly more than one. Scratch that, definitely more than one. For the first time in weeks, they were going to have a quiet, peaceful night together.

In hindsight, Tony should have known that was too much to hope for.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there goes the last of my pre-written chapters... hopefully I'll have another one or two ready by next week.

**Chapter 2**

The jet was new. Absolutely, frighteningly new. Not new in the just-bought-it sense, but in the sense that every item, each computer, all the technology on this plane was completely alien to Steve. Back in his day, the airplanes hadn’t been this complicated. They didn’t have so many screens in them, for one. They didn’t fly quite as smoothly either.

At first, Taron had been infinitely curious about the machine. She’d nosed about, pawing at the doors and sniffing the floor with bemusement. But her excitement had eventually worn off as well, and she lay curled under the bench Steve was sitting on.

Now, that bench felt somewhat familiar. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was back on a military aircraft, ready to jump, to parachute into enemy territory… but he couldn’t. The files Fury had given him kept drawing his attention, and, as Taron settled next to him, he reluctantly began to read.

“That man is staring at us,” Taron said softly, so softly that even Steve could barely hear her. “His daemon too. He’s been watching the entire flight.” Steve had noticed too. The man was a dark-haired SHIELD agent, wearing a black suit with a bulge at his waistline that could only be a gun, or perhaps some other weapon. He wasn’t staring outright, rather, he kept sneaking glances at the two when he thought Steve wasn’t looking. His daemon, a golden retriever that bore some strange resemblance to Taron, was watching with adoration as well.

The words were barely out of her mouth when the agent rose from his seat and stood, facing Steve.

“So this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?” Steve turned to the only topic of conversation he could think of- the contents of Fury’s files.

“A lot of people were,” the agent said. “You were the world’s first superhero.”

It was another indication, Steve thought, of how the world had changed. During the war, he hadn’t been publicly hailed as a superhero. He’d been just another soldier, a soldier that was enhanced to be faster, stronger, and tougher than the others. He’s been a symbol, a captain, a celebrity… but always a soldier. Never a hero. Now, it seemed that the title “superhero” was all too common.

“Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula.” The agent continued.

“It didn’t really go his way, did it?”

“Not so much.”

Steve had read about Banner in the files. It was true that in this century many people were acclaimed as heroes. The doctor was not one of them. Steve recalled a blurred photograph of a large green man-monster, snarling at some unseen foe. The reports told of mass destruction, collateral damage, and civilian death. Steve didn’t know whether Banner had wanted to be a hero when he tried to recreate the serum. If he had, then he’d failed.

The SHIELD agent, however, still had a few things to say in favor of Banner. “But when he’s not that thing though, the guy’s like a Steven Hawking.”

Steve looked at him blankly. He didn’t know the name.

“He’s like a…smart person.” Steve gave a hesitant half-smile and lowered his eyes, trying to focus on the reports. “I must say,” the agent pressed on, “it’s an honor to meet you. Officially.” Steve smiled at him questioningly. “I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping. I mean, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice…”

Taron laughed, a throaty, barking sound, and the golden retriever whined apologetically. Steve got to his feet and leaned against the wall, and the agent mirrored him. “No, really, it’s just a huge, huge honor to have you on board. It’s…”

Steve was starting to feel uncomfortable. “I just hope I’m the man for the job.”

“Oh you are. Absolutely. Oh, we made some, uh, modifications to the uniform. I had a little… design input.”

“The uniform?” Steve asked in surprise. He’d thought that the world would want him to move on with it rather than hang on to relics of a war long over. “Aren’t the stars and stripes a little… old fashioned?”

“With everything that’s happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned.”

*a*a*a*

The helicarrier was a death trap. And when it rose from the churning water with a whirring sound, its four propellers spinning rapidly, Bruce knew he’d stepped right into it. There was no way this was going to end well. None at all.

Jin, who lay around his shoulders, scaled tail wrapping his arm, tightened her grip in a gesture that was half reassurance, half warning. “We’ll be ok,” she whispered as he followed Natasha Romanoff, the red-haired SHIELD agent who’d found him in India, into the enclosed body of the aircraft. “No pressure.”

 _No pressure,_ he repeated in his mind, _no pressure._ _Don’t think about the trap, about being on an aircraft of some sort miles above the ocean, about all the people trapped in here with you…_ No. Instead, he tried to focus on the small things. Natasha’s black leather jacket. Steve’s simpler brown coat. _These two are quite different people_ , Bruce observed. _Everyone knows him. He’s a “hero”, or so they say. He’s all for believing in people, for second chances. She, on the other hand…_ Bruce knew next to nothing about the woman. But from his brief talks wither, he’d realized that she would not hesitate to use any means necessary to achieve her plans. _She trusts no one but herself._

And Steve’s reaction when they first met- so straightforward, and yet talking as if Bruce was just another scientist brought to consult. A sharp contrast to agent Romanoff’s- through her subtle reassurances that SHIELD only wanted his research, she stank of fear. He didn’t need the Other Guy or even Jin to smell that.

The control room of the helicarrier was massive. A huge window taking up the entire outer wall, rows upon rows of SHIELD agent sitting in front of their computers. Doors with the SHIELD symbol set in them surrounded the room. Hesitantly, Bruce walked over to one of them, only to be stared down by two armed guards. The message was clear- there was no way out. Jin hissed back at the men, but Bruce turned away from them, resigned. In the center of the room was a raised platform, where a man Bruce recognized all too well waited.

“Good,” the man replied to a dark-haired woman with a falcon daemon perched on her shoulder. “Let’s vanish!”

“Reflection panels engaged,” a computerized voice announced, and Nick Fury stepped away from his screens and turned towards the new arrivals.

“Gentlemen,” as he passed by Steve, the Captain handed him a 10$ bill. Bruce decided it would be best not to ask. “Doctor, thank you for coming,” Fury said when he reached Bruce.

“Thanks for asking nicely,” Jin’s tongue flicked out at that, but Fury’s daemon, the bear Kenara, remained stoic. “So… how long am I staying?”

“Once we get our hands on the tesseract, you’re in the wind.”

“Where are you with that?” The sooner it was done, the better.

“We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet,” the agent with the retriever daemon, Coulson, if he remembered correctly, was the one to answer. “Cell phone, laptops, if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

“It’s still not going to find them in time.” Natasha argued.

“You have to narrow your field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?” Bruce asked.

“How many are there?” Fury replied, and Bruce could swear he saw a hint of a smug grin on the man’s face. _This is how SHIELD works,_ Fury was telling him. _We always get what we want._

“Call every lab you know,” Bruce instructed, “Tell them to put spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places.” He didn’t miss the lost look on the faces of Rogers and Romanoff. But Fury himself seemed to follow, and gave a quick nod. “Do you have somewhere for me to work?”

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury called, “could you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory please?”

“Come this way,” the redhead instructed. “You too, Rogers.” As she led them out of the large room, she said, “You’re going to love it, doc. We have all the toys.”

“Did you notice?” Jin asked quietly as Bruce kept a few paces behind the other two.

“Notice what?”

“Steve looked lost over there, back in the main room. Like he didn’t know how to take it in. And when you were talking with Fury, he looked as if he was this close to losing it completely.”

“Stands to reason. He’s been out for 70 year, Jin.”

“That’s not all. When Natasha was arguing with Fury about tracking the tesseract, she was staring at the picture of some man on the monitor. Not at the readings, or the scans or anything. Just the man.”

“Jin, I know you pay attention to things, but… why is this important?”

“Because they’re human, Bruce. They have weaknesses too.”

“I’m not looking for their weaknesses. I’m supposed to work with these people, not fight them.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t know them. You never know when it might come in handy.” She didn’t say it out loud, but the thought sat on both their minds- _when I inevitably lose control, or when they decide I’m too much of a risk to keep around, I’ll need to know._

“Uh, excuse me, Miss…” Steve said hesitantly, cutting Bruce and Jin’s conversation. “I might not know much about how this kind of base is built these days, but… I don’t think this is where we’ll find a lab.”

He was right, and Bruce mentally scolded himself for not noticing it sooner. They had descended several flights of stairs, and were probably in the belly of the helicarrier. The place looked like a storage area rather than a scientific facility, dimly lit and nearly empty of people.

Natasha stopped abruptly, turning back to face the two men. The red shirt she wore underneath her jacket seemed abnormally bright in the relative lighting. A shiver passed down his spine, and Bruce briefly struggled to keep down the rage that simmered. She might have a good reason to bring them there. No need to jump to conclusions. No pressure.

“That’s because we’re not going to the labs.” The Russian said. At the very least, she wasn’t lying. “Not yet. There’s something I have to show you first. I don’t know what to do about it, and maybe you two could help me figure it out.”

*a*a*a*

It was all Natasha could do not to show her discomfort. On her shoulder, Rask rubbed his two front legs absent-mindedly, safely hidden by the collar of her coat.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” He whispered, and she gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. “But Director Fury--”

“Called me in the first time.” She muttered out of the corner of her mouth, shifting her head slightly so her hair could veil the movement from the two men behind her. “He has no right to hide it from me now.”

“He’s your boss, Natasha. He _does_ have the right.”

“I know, Rask. But I can’t just ignore it.”

“You know it’s more than that. You didn’t just stumble onto this, you used every bit of influence you could to find the location.”

“And I don’t regret it. This is important.”

“When Fury finds out, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Natasha didn’t answer. He was right, and there was nothing more to say. Even before she’d contacted Banner, she’d done the research and figured a few things out. She’d delved into SHIELD files with a clearance level that was a stretch, even for her. She’d abused most every authority, debt, and friendship she had among the SHIELD agents. But in the end, she’d found what she was looking for, right here on the helicarrier, hidden among the storage levels.

“Agent Romanoff,” Rogers asked from behind her. “What is it that you want to show us?”

“I’ll explain later.” She said, stopping by a heavy metal door that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a secure bank vault. “We’re here.”

There were two low-ranking agents standing on guard, as she’d expected. Most likely, they didn’t even know what it was they were watching. It would be easy to take them out. _Walk up to the one on the left, make small talk, catch him unawares with a knee to the stomach followed by a jab to the head. Second one rushes over. Kick to the kneecap. Light blow to the head. Both unconscious._

But no. It was unnecessary. These were allies, and she could just as easily get through with a few choice words. Taking them out would only arouse suspicion, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Agent Romanoff.” The agent on the left, a young man with black hair and olive skin, his lynx daemon at his side, recognized her immediately. His partner, a woman with auburn hair and a white ermine daemon, stiffened when she realized who she was, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Natasha’s reputation was well-known through SHIELD.

“Let us through.” She ordered. Hopefully, they wouldn’t ask questions.  If they did, she didn’t doubt her ability to persuade them.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t let anyone pass.” The man said. “Director’s orders.”

“Listen to me, agent.” She said, her voice low, with a slightly predatory tone. “What is your clearance level? Two? Three?”

He swallowed. “Four.” Higher than she’d expected.

“Then you know who I am. You know what I do. Do you know _my_ clearance level?” He shook his head mutely. “Level 7.” His eyes widened, and she knew why. As far as lower-ranking agents were concerned, level 7 was the highest there is. Natasha wasn’t sure even she was supposed to know about level 8, to which only a handful of select agents had access. “Whatever your orders were, they do not apply to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good. These two are with me. You will let us in, and tell no one about it.” With some luck, they were frightened enough to actually not tell.

The female agent pulled open the door, revealing a tiny, empty room with rust stains on the walls and a smaller door set on the other side. She stepped into the room, and her companions followed, and the door closed behind them with a creak, leaving them in the small space lit by a fluorescent lamp.

“What are we here for?” Banner asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

“A bit over a year ago, while SHIELD was conducting research on the tesseract, something happened in the lab.” Natasha explained, watching their faces carefully. Rogers’ jaw had a hard cast to it, and she knew he was thinking about his own experiences from that year.

“What _something_?” Banner pressed on.

“A panther appeared in the middle of the lab.” Rogers blinked, and Banner’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“A panther.”

“Yes, a panther. It turned out that she was a daemon, but… she had no human.” Their reactions were just as she had expected- a slight shudder from Rogers, Banner’s daemon hissing, the frill on her neck rising.

“How is that possible?” Banner asked.

“I don’t know. We tried to talk to her, but she sounded half-mad. She claimed she didn’t have a human, but then she said he left her, and started begging for him to come back. I couldn’t get anything else out of her.”

“For over a year?” Rogers inquired.

“Fury took her away. I haven’t seen her since.”

“And you think she’s here?” Banner raised an eyebrow.

“I know she is. I’ve been looking for weeks. I found out she was being held on the helicarrier. Right here.” She gestured towards the small door.

“What do you need us for?”

“I… I don’t know.” She admitted. “Maybe you’ll be able to talk to her. Maybe you’ll have some idea what to do about her. Maybe you won’t be able to do anything. But if there’s any chance… she’s important in some way, that’s for sure. The second thing that appeared in that room is trying to start a war on our planet. Maybe we’ll be able to stop him if we can find out more about the first.”

“So it will come to a war?” Rogers wondered.

“Possibly. But until it does, let’s try to stop it.” She laid her hand on the handle of the door. “Before we go in, I just want to warn you… I don’t know what’s happened to her over the past year. She might be even more insane than she used to be. Try not to provoke her.” _I hope I’m doing the right thing,_ she thought, and pulled the door open.

The next room was divided in the middle by a wire mesh, giving the half that was farther from them the look of a cage. Their side of the room was empty. The other side contained two bowls, of the sort you might use to feed a pet, one filled with water and the other with a hunk of raw meat. And lying near the back, head resting on her paws, was the panther.

She barely reacted as Natasha and her companions came in, the only indication that she’d noticed their presence a slight twitch of her tail.

Raskanor dropped from Natasha’s shoulder on a silvery strand of silk, and scuttled through the fence to the other daemon. She raised her head at his approach, taking in her visitors. She cocked her head slightly to the side, and then said, “It’s you.” Natasha nodded, and the panther got to her feet and padded over to stand near the mesh. “Why did you come back?”

“We would have come sooner if we’d found you.” Rask, who was perched on one of the wires, assured her. “These are Bruce and Jin, Steve and Taron.” He introduced, keeping his voice soft. “You remember Natasha and me?”

“I do. Why did you come?” She repeated her question, and it looked like she wouldn’t accept anything less than a straightforward answer.

“We wanted to talk to you,” Natasha replied, and crouched until she was eye-level with the creature. “How long have you been here?”

“In this room? I’m not sure… a long time, I think.” Natasha was relieved that the panther’s mental state seemed more stable than last time. “But sometimes they take me out. Run tests, or ask me questions… sometimes, they do experiments…”

“Did they hurt you?” Steve asked, cold anger in his voice.

She didn’t answer. Instead, her feline eyes narrowed, and she demanded, “How should I know you’re not with them? That you aren’t here to get more information about me?” Her hackles rose, and a low growl escaped her throat, and Natasha could see a hint of the old madness in her eyes.

“We’re not,” Banner said in a low voice, and she was glad he did, because she couldn’t say the same without lying, at least a little.

“Then what do you want?” The panther demanded.

“We told you. Just to talk.” Rask said. “You might have information that could help us, and... maybe we’ll be able to help you somehow.” Some of the tension went out of the daemon’s body, but Natasha knew they were still treading on thin ice.

“Will you help us?” She asked carefully.

The panther closed her eyes for a moment and lowered her head, before giving a stiff, quick nod. “If I can. You and your daemon were nice enough last time… I’ll do it for you.” Natasha knew what was going on. She had encountered it before in countless missions- a small kindness in the midst of pain could grant a person’s trust. She’d used that tactic in the past, and was all too familiar with how it worked. She found it incredibly useful at times, and hated herself for it.

Her face showing no emotion but sympathy, Natasha asked the daemon, “Can you tell us where you are from?”

“I… I am not sure.” She sounded desperate. “I do not remember much from before I came here. Jus… snatches of memory, like someone else’s dream. And pain. As if my soul was torn apart. And nothing but the darkness. And then I appeared where you found me.”

“What are these things you remember?” Rask inquired.

“I am not certain. It is all blurred, images and voices and emotions, mostly. Some of it feels so… old. Large buildings, and trees and water and skies. Rainbows and clouds. People, sometimes, but… I cannot recall their faces… Not even his…” Unmistakable pain came into her yellow eyes.

“His?” Natasha asked. “You mean your human’s?”

“No… yes? I don’t know. Him. Me.”

“Then… he _is_ your human.” Rogers said, and Natasha sent him a quick glare, silently telling him to _not interfere_.

“I told you- yes and no. It is not difficult to understand.” Thankfully, Rogers didn’t reply to that statement.

“I see,” Natasha said, although she didn’t. Rask asked the question she’d wanted to ask- “do you remember where you were before you appeared in the base? What happened to you? Why there, of all places?”

“I remember… a pain in my chest, as if I was being torn apart… it is the first thing I remember clearly. And I remember being lost in darkness. As if I was falling. But I don’t think I was. Or was I?” She tilted her head to the side. “And then… a light. Not exactly, but warmth. I followed it, and… there was a way out. I took it. And you found me.”

So Selvig’s theory might be correct- she was drawn to the tesseract. Thinking about Selvig reminded her of where he was. Of why she was doing this. Of Clint. She suddenly couldn’t bear to be in this room any longer. The daemon had no useful information. She had to leave. Find another way to bring him—to bring _them_ back.

“Thank you for our cooperation,” she told the panther. “We have to go now, before anyone finds out we were here.”

“You will come back?” The creature asked, and for a moment Natasha was reminded of a child. A lost, human child, waiting for the one friend she had… no. She forced herself back to reality. No. She couldn’t be weak, not now.

But nonetheless, she found herself replying, “I will try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Review please!

**Author's Note:**

> So? What do you think? Read and review, and tell me what you thought of my choices for daemons!


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